


Law of Bad Luck

by wednesday



Series: EAD Birthday Bash [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:27:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22198564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesday/pseuds/wednesday
Summary: A conversation Roche never in his worst nightmares dreamed about having.
Relationships: Iorveth/Vernon Roche
Series: EAD Birthday Bash [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666675
Comments: 10
Kudos: 88
Collections: Exchanges After Dark Birthday Bash 2020





	Law of Bad Luck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Filigranka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filigranka/gifts).



“What?” Roche is absolutely certain he misheard. He might even send a silent prayer to whatever deity might be listening to please make it so. 

“Newlyweds!” the gratingly cheerful ealdorman repeats. “Oh, we’re so happy for you! A great feast to your happiness last night!” 

Roche looks at the empty cups and flower crowns scattered throughout the tavern. There are people sleeping under the tables. 

“What,” he starts and tries and fails to keep his tone polite, “does your feast have to do with me?” 

“It’s all in honor of your wedding!” The man lowers his voice conspiratorially. “We’d almost lost hope, see. The spirits in the forest would have cursed the whole village for a year, if you hadn’t come along just in time.” 

“We’re not-- not _married,_ ” he almost chokes on the last word. 

“Hah! You are now!” 

“That’s not--” Roche takes a deep breath and does not draw any weapons. Then he remembers once again that all his weapons are wherever the townspeople stashed them last night. “I think I would bloody remember getting married.” 

“You ate and drank and retired together. I spoke all the blessings for you. No need to keep you young people apart with such details.” 

“You disarmed me and threw me into a cell the moment I stepped foot in your village!” Roche shouts and feels an insistent headache bloom behind his temples. 

“Just so! With food and drink and each other for company.” The ealdorman chuckles at some private thought and his voice once again turns conspiratorial. “You got along as well as the spirits said you would, too, the guards told me.” 

Roche chokes on his next breath and by the sound of it he’s not alone. 

The man points at a door at the back of the tavern. “All your things are in the back room. Now, I’m not as young as I used to be, I’ll leave you two.” He walks away seemingly unconcerned what Roche might do with a sword back in his hand. 

“So,” says bloody Iorveth who has been silent all this time, the bastard, “ _husband_.” In the heavy pause that follows Roche can hear his own teeth grind. “Care to hire a witcher for these _spirits_?” 


End file.
